


Dear: Evan Hansen

by nobodynose



Series: Kleinsen Oneshots [2]
Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Love Letters, M/M, One-Shot, bad ending sorta, sorta - Freeform, they are gayy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25748581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobodynose/pseuds/nobodynose
Summary: Jared's therapist assigned for him to write letters  too. Excpet, they're not addressed to himself.
Relationships: Evan Hansen/Jared Kleinman
Series: Kleinsen Oneshots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867774
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Dear: Evan Hansen

**Author's Note:**

> originally written 8/9/19 and posted on wattpad under @NobodyNose27

**POV Jared**

**\--**

**Dear Evan Hansen,**

It's how all my letters start. A message to the person you're thinking about at that moment. It's some stupid assignment from my therapist. It's supposed to allow me to think about others and speak my _true_ mind about them, so I slowly get out of the habit of spitting out whatever comes to mind at school.

" _What are you, like, an acorn?"_

_"So how's it feel to be the first person to break their arm by jerking off?"_

_"Oh my god._ "

At least my therapist knows I have trouble being anything but an asshole around other people.

So far, this assignment hasn't really helped me be a better person at school or anything. Still a big ol bully. I don't really understand how the assignment's supposed to help me, but it's kinda fun.

**Today's gonna be an amazing day, and here's why.**

No, I didn't have to write that. _My_ letters weren't self motivation letters, but ever since Evan told me he was writing them, I've been writing that first sentence too.

Evan doesn't know that I write letters. Hell, he doesn't even know I go to therapy. Why would he? Why would I tell him? He would just think I'm another retarded kid like him, which I'm not, by the way.

Here's Evan, going to therapy to help him make friends. I'm going to therapy to help me make friends, too. Sorta. We're going for the same reasons, but not exactly. Like, Evan has social anxiety, I'm literally just an asshole.

**Because today I'm really gonna speak my mind, which I really don't do much. Especially around you.**

Here's Evan, struggling to make friends and googly-eyeing Zoe every day. Meanwhile, there's me, only having one friend, who _I_ googly-eye. Except, I'm not as bad as Evan. I don't make it extremely obvious that I like him.

Haha, _'like him'_. I definitely don't just 'like him'. At this point, it's more than that.

**I want you to know how beautiful you are.**

You don't need to be around Evan to see how amazing he looks. His dirty blonde hair, always a little messy and a little all-over-the-place, but at the same time, that kinda describes him as a person. His blue eyes, that I just wish with all my heart would stare into mine for just a few moments, no words necessary. His hands, kinda small but definitely not as small as mine. I've always wondered how soft they might be. His lips... I only wish I could feel them with my own one day.

**I want you to know how funny you are.**

He's adorable. He's not like me, going around and making sex jokes and teasing people, but rather he makes you smile by just being himself. He's afraid to speak his mind, too, sure, but at least he shows he's afraid to speak his mind, instead of being like me and covering it up.

**I want you to know how I thoroughly enjoy every second spent in your presence.**

It's like Evan has a large bubble around him. When I enter that bubble, I always feel immediately happier. I feel like, for just a moment, that everything may have a happy ending. As if I made a move, right then, right there, I wouldn't give a shit until after I left his bubble. He makes life disappear right before my eyes, in a good way.

**I want to know that I think you're perfect just the way you are. You don't need to change.**

**I want you to know I love you, Evan Hansen.**

**Sincerely,**   
**You're best, most dearest, and only family friend,**   
**Jared.**

I smiled at my work. Every time I wrote one of these I felt like I'd created a masterpiece. Every word had it's place in my heart, and every word symbolised Evan, why had the biggest chunk of my heart.

This letter was short, sweet, and right to the point, but I've written letters that were three to four pages. All about Evan. Well, all except that one I wrote about my mom, the first day after getting this assignment. They all said simular yet different things, usually good. Though I did have that one letter I wrote over the summer about how I was pissed off that he never came to see me.

I put that letter in the stack of letters and took out another piece of paper, preparing to write another letter. Sometimes, after writing one, it was hard to stop.

I wrote the first two sentences when my phone rang. "Yipp." I said, picking up the phone.

"Y-yipp?" Evan questioned from the other end of the line. "N-nevermind. I'm coming over."

"Now?" I said, suddenly feelings hot and embarrassed. Did he really have to call in the middle of a love letter?

"Just let me come over, Jared." He said bitterly, "My mom isn't exactly helping me right now."

At the mention of his mom, I stiffened. I knew that Evan and his mom had been growing apart ever since she took up more shifts at the hospital. Evan was started to feel like she was trying to control him and, understandably, he didn't like that.

"Uh, fine." I said, still feeling hot. I started folding up the letter I was working on and throwing it in the trash. "How close are you?" I took the stack of letters in my hands and looked around for a place to put them.

The line went dead and I heard the front door open.

"Shit shit shit shit..." I mumbled to myself, before deciding to put the letters under my bed. I heard Evan walking up the stairs and I basically dived to the floor to put the papers down. In the process, I dropped a couple, and my ceiling fan blew them across the room, right to where Evan was now standing.

"Sorry I- Jared what the hell?" He said after seeing me on the ground beside my bed. Sure, he hadn't noticed my letter, but he noticed I was in an odd position beside my bed.

"Uh... Nerds sit in floors?"

Evan gave me a questioning look and looked at the ground, spotting the paper. "What's this?" He asked, picking it up.

I ran up to him and grabbed his wrist. "It's nothing!" I shouted. Evan looked at me and I realized I was touching him. I let go and grabbed the paper instead, yanking it from him.

"J-Jared are you okay?" He asked as I folded the letter and rushed to the trash can to throw it away. I caught a glimpse of it and saw it was the letter I had just finishes. The short and sweet one.

I laughed awkwardly, "Never been better!"

Evan walked closer to me and I stepped back, already feeling the red in my cheeks. "Are y-you sure?" He eyed me suspiciously, and I nodded.

He walked up to my trash can.

"No!" I stumbled, reaching for his wrist. I was too late, though. He had gotten the letter.

"Please don't read it!" I squeaked, my voice high-pitch. I felt a tear or two stream down my face, and I realized my anxiety had definitely gotten the better of me.

Evan ignored me, and I felt hopeless to the situation. Evan was going to hear me speak my mind. The thought was terrifying.

Evan finished reading and looked at me. His eyes were glossed and his face was as pink as pink lemonade. "I-is this for me?" He asked.

"No... It's for the other Evan Hansen." I tried to make a sarcastic comment, but it came out soft and quiet.

Evan ran up to me and pulled me in to a big hug, tears streaming down his face. I felt my face get even hotter, but I wrapped my arms around his body, crying myself.

And we stayed like that. Until, for some reason, Evan's legs gave way. Probably some weird thing that happens when you cried too much. So Evan went down. And I went down with him. Now we were both crying on the floor beside my trash can, holding on to each other as if our life was about to end.

Evan pulled away and looked into my eyes, grabbing on to my left hand. His blue eyes... staring into mine. No words necessary.

He smiled and more tears started streaming, "I love you Jared." He said.

I didn't respond. Instead, I gathered a buttload of confidence and yanked him towards me, locking my lips with his.

I can confirm that his lips are, in fact, soft.


End file.
